An Untitled Drabble
by MsJonyReb
Summary: The embossed return address read Lindsey MacDonald Esquire; he knew without even opening it what the letter would say. Letting his head hang for just a moment; taking a deep breath Eliot opened the envelope and began to read . . .
1. Chapter 1

It was the end of a busy day, one of several down days Nate had promised they'd have after the last con went sideways. He'd retreated to the kitchen, taking his frustrations and anger out on the unsuspecting vegetables and sauces that made up the brew pubs menu. Having spent the day working his way through brunch, lunch, and early dinner rushes; he now sat in his dimly lit office, eying the beige envelope that sat in the center of his desk. The embossed return address read Lindsey MacDonald Esquire; he knew without even opening it what the letter would say. Letting his head hang for just a moment; taking a deep breath Eliot opened the envelope and began to read . . .

_Eliot –_  
_As cliché as it sounds, bro – if you're reading this I'm gone. Not just gone, as in I've _  
_had to go to ground, but gone as in I'm not coming back; I'm dead. All I can do is hope_  
_that I went out in a blaze of glory. . ._

He paused; trying to process how the vibrant bouncing Brian O'Conner – ex-LAPD officer, ex-FBI officer, 100% gear head, adrenaline junky street raiser was gone. As the thought began to sink in; he realized it didn't matter how. It didn't matter who, or why, but someone would have to pay.

As his mind began to wonder to the memories of the other man, it seemed like a lifetime ago when he'd stood aboard the houseboat with Brian's arms wrapped around him . . . The sound of the computer on his desk coming to life drew his attention back to the current. An eyebrow raised and a growl building low in his throat; he knew of at least 4 other hackers outside of Hardison that could do this, most of which knew he worked with a hacker and would avoid trying to contact him on one of the Leverage International servers. So, sitting back in his chair, arms crossed he waited for the unknown intruder to identify themselves.

His answer wasn't long in coming, as the phantom controller launched a rarely used encrypted video chat program written by a member of an elite military group; specifically the youngest member of the most recent generation of the A-Team. Affectionately known by those who admired them as well as hated them alike as The Losers; pinching the bridge of his nose he waited as the connection to finish.

Few knew that Brian O'Conner had a younger half brother; even fewer knew he was in the military, and fewer still knew he was the com-man for The Losers. To his team he was Jensen, to the hacking community he was known as "Ghost", but to Eliot he was his heart's little brother. Another man, they'd thought of as brother had once said that the two were like over-eager puppies until you threatened one of their own – then they became vicious guardians of family. The only difference being one tended to run with a barely tame Cougar and the other with a Wolf.

Shaking his head he watched as the connection was established and the younger man materialized on the screen. Eliot sat the letter aside; he knew by the hard set of the other man's jaw – he had a job to do . . .


	2. Chapter 2

p style="margin-bottom: .14in; line-height: 115%;"Eliot stood in front of the meeting counter that split the room between living space and meeting space; arms crossed a scowl on his face, his piercing eyes daring the wall of monitors to not provide him with the information he wanted. Hardison splashed up several frames of the satellite captured footage taken of the helicopter full of kids being taken out by a missile strike. His voice a mere growl that cut off any comment the younger man had been ready to make, "Find any footage of the crash site after the smoke cleared."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: .14in; line-height: 115%;"Hardison turned around and looked at the other man for the first time since he'd come barging in demanding he find a satellite that had been over a set of coordinates he'd thruster at him on a crumpled sheet of paper at a specific time. "What do you think I am? An international telekinetic? Or better yet, Merlin-that's who you think I am! BAMF and it just appears. Dude we're talking hacking. . ."/p  
p style="margin-bottom: .14in; line-height: 115%;"The resonating growl building from low within the hitter's chest combined with the arctic blue of his eyes cut the other man off. "I said, find me the footage. If you can't I'll find someone who can." The threat was left hanging as he was interrupted by the sound of some hyped-up Latin music blaring from his back pocket. Rolling his eyes he dug in his pocket and yanked the phone out pressing answer as he pinned the younger man with a look. Then turned and walked out of the room as he held the phone to his ear and growled./p  
p style="margin-bottom: .14in; line-height: 115%;""Please tell me you've heard from him, bro!"/p  
p style="margin-bottom: .14in; line-height: 115%;"Eliot sighed; he'd know that voice anywhere. "Hold on, let me get somewhere secure." That voice; it was the voice of the only person who he truly trusted to always have his back. Blue eyes the color of the ocean, and a knack for getting into trouble so deep he shouldn't survive the getting out; but he always did. This complicated things while giving him a bit of peace. He knew whatever needed to be done the other man would have his back. This had been his unit before they'd become The Losers, before he'd been taken out of action. These weren't just nameless, faceless men – these were brothers in arms./p  
p style="margin-bottom: .14in; line-height: 115%;"Growling as Nate called his name, he continued towards his office, knowing he'd swept it for bugs earlier that morning and there hadn't been time for anything to be planted-he stepped in and closed the door. Sighing he moved to the couch along the back wall and fell down onto it. Leaning his head back he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Bri, I saw the footage. I've watched it a couple of times. They didn't do this. It was meant for them." Now, he just had to figure out what the connection between Brian O'Conner and Coronal Franklin Clay's crack commando team, The Loser's was./p 


End file.
